


Late Night Call

by FrankenPup



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Married Couple, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:02:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24625192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankenPup/pseuds/FrankenPup
Summary: Sir Hammerlock, greatest hunter dozens of galaxies and well defined gentleman, can't sleep.
Relationships: Sir Hammerlock/Wainwright Jakobs
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	Late Night Call

**Author's Note:**

> This fix isn't beta'd because idc. A Totally shameless phone sex fic about Alistair having a thing for Wainwright's voice.

Alistair Hammerlock was currently tucked snuggly into bed, quite a difference from his usual sleeping bag ensemble.

Winny insisted if he was to be traveling the universe, he should at least be comfortable. Whether that meant proper meals or something other than rocks to lie upon.

Dusty, rotten shacks and tents weren't as charming to the southerner. The last thing the old man needed was worrying he'd wake up with a sore spine.

So Wainwright went out of his way to search for rest stops for Hammerlock to stay in. And when the planet was a barren wasteland with nothing but thick brush and wild locals, the least he could manage was renting desolate cabins while out studying the local flora. Not nearly as exciting as his usual adventures but enjoyable nonetheless.

Alistair tucked himself on the left side of the bed, a usual habit when he slept with his husband. He did have every intention of going to bed at a reasonable hour, a successful day taking samples and documenting Pandora's feral wildlife deserved a good night's rest. But hours of tossing and turning left him staring at the fluorescent blue screen of his echo as the numbers ticket by.

A brilliant mind never ceased its thoughts, he supposed. In the blink of an eye, the clock soon struck 2am, and after four hours of watching the damn numbers tick away he finally tossed away a pillow in frustration.

Rummaging for his echo, Alistair toyed with the glowing screen, casting a ghastly glowing the dark room while he punched in random keys. The game quickly lost its appeal, and turned an effort dialed a phone number. Squinting at the bright screen in the dark room.

It was a long shot, though Eden-6 shared a relative sun cycle with Pandora, Winny was almost certainly enjoying their massive bed to himself. Snoring like a chainsaw and hogging their plush blankets.

It rang thrice, and to be honest Alistair nearly hung up after the forth, Winny should be sound asleep by now. 

However much to his surprise, the receiver clicked with a gravelly voice he certainly wasn't ready to hear.

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" Winnys voice was thick, and he heard a quiet clink of ice in a glass.

Alistair beamed an award winning smile, shaking his head "As a matter of fact, I am in bed. Buried beneath a mountain of pillows upon your request." Oddly smug he didn't need to stretch the truth.

"Could say the same for you. The third sun shares Eden's day cycles. It's just as late, if not later, Winny."

"You called me."

"Oh details."

Snorting softly, the man of his dreams continued, "Can't sleep a wink, got myself worked up over pointless bullshit again."

Alistair wiggled himself further into the incredibly soft blankets and felt way too spoiled than he deserved. He would gladly hike mountainous terrain with nothing more than the shirt on his back and a rifle in his hand. His baby, the love of his life positively insisted on renting out cabins on any planet he ventured to. Or if not, takes a special pop up tent big enough for 10 people. Equipped with anything he could ever possibly need. Ah, technology!

A late drink or two left them conversing quietly, discussing how in light of the rough day in the office: Winny did, in fact, manage to hit a grog from the porch at midday that morning over coffee.

Alistair hoped his call to his beloved would help his eyes drop closed and fall asleep with the echo against his cheek. Winny's voice was ever so pleasant and soothing.

But for some glorious reason, his husband was quiet. Words mumbled but still understandable through the echo.

Wainwright's normal tone was always a bit gravely, but that low husk wasn't something he got to experience often. Though he must be trying to keep quiet in the piercing quiet of the manor, it brought back many lovely memories.

Winny's breathing was slow, definitely on the edge of falling asleep at his desk most likely. It shouldn't have been as arousing as it was, then again Wainwrights signature accent seemed thicker than molasses this late at night. For some reason it managed to sate that desperate itch in Alistair's limbo. His husband was a gorgeous man on his own, but his voice was positively sinful. Nothing could have Alistair aching between his knees quicker.

His husband was talking about something, he prayed it wasn't incredibly important because he found his eyes sliding shut just to let his voice bounce around in his skull. A pleasant rumble in the dead of night, peaceful. Like the pitter patter of rain and thunder on particularly chilly nights. Or more accurately, the purr of an old engine. Stroking all the right places in his mind and sending goosebumps to prickle his skin.

Alistair toyed with a stray string on his pajama bottoms absently, and tugged at the string, chewing on his lip. When he finally came back to reality, he was greeted with more silence and quiet breathing.

"Wainwright.."

He got a hum in response, a tired, forced noise that certainly didn't help his growing situation.

"Are you drinking at the moment?"

"Got a nice glass of bourbon, why."

"Oh, no reason" casually letting his flesh fingers gently card over his clothed, flaccid cock. "Just wanted to be sure you weren't going to inhale it."

"What would you say to a little intergalactic echonet sex?"

He still must have caught the drowsy man off guard, despite his warning, he did in fact choke a little on his drink. Cursing like a sailor as it burned his throat.

"What the devil is wrong with you?!"

"I tried to warn you dear."

Without watching the sure flush creep across Wainwright's cheeks he still smiled to himself. Letting his eyes drift closed to bask in the innocent fantasy playing in his mind.

"Your voice Winny, it's so husky. I'm finding it difficult to think straight on much else."

He could faintly hear a click through the speaker, surely Winny locking his door in case of an interruption. A small jolt of excitement fluttered his fingers and Alistair smiled wide.

Alistair was definitely not tired now, (not that he had been in the first place) and at least Winny was playing along.

"Talk dirty to me." Alistair teased, settling into his comfy pillows as his flesh hand slid further down his chest, taking a moment to tease his nipples through the soft fabric.

"Ain't that your specialty?" That lovely voice tight all of a sudden.

"You're too kind, but I'm afraid it's not nearly as arousing to say it to myself. Despite my enthusiasm."

Because after all, he couldn't mimic Winny's voice, no matter how hard he tried. That deep drawl was unique, and its husk was hard to replicate. Edeian dialect was incredibly odd.

"Dirt, some mud, plenty a jabber dung otta do the trick."

He sighed, letting his hand fall away dramatically despite not having an audience. Perhaps his flare for the dramatic got his point across because Winny laughed immediately.

"Gotta have a little fun with ya sweetheart. Ain't see you in weeks."

Huffing softly, Alistair resumed his ministrations, thumbing soft nipples beneath his shirt as he traced his way down his chest "I wish you were here." Alistair finally admitted.

"Not particularly here on Pandora but, with me." No shame in admitting he missed Wainwright and his stupid, sexy voice.

"I know darlin', ya married a Jakobs. I can't jump ship and leave whenever adventures strikes yer fancy."

He made a soft noise of distaste despite knowing; well in fact, it was true. Winny had responsibilities. And though he had no intention of stealing the man away from said responsibilities, he still felt the selfish need to have his attention.

Wainwright sat forward on his office chair, creaking at the sudden change as he toyed with his glass, "This'll do just fine, all I gotta do is tell ya what to do hmm?"

"I'm just sitting in my study" he began nonchalantly, voice dropping dangerously low. "Mindin my business and you call late, wee hours into the morning wanting attention. Knew my charms were hard to ignore."

Hammerlock rolled his eyes, despite the silly smile stretching his lips. "What would you do, pray tell..? If I were to walk through the door?"

Wainwright hummed, scratching at his beard, taking a moment to think "I'd fold you over the desk like a chair and fuck you with your head between your knees."

Alistair had one of two reactions at that moment, one was the air in his lungs leaving his body, and a hot pulse made his legs twitch.

"That was brilliant." He breathed in response.

"But it's not enough for you, is it?"

"Absolutely not."

Alistair's palm found a mind of its own, caressing the junctions of his ribs, settling into the grooves of his hips and thumbing the course happy trail leading beneath his pajama bottoms.

"What are ya thinking about?"

Shyness wasn't really a trait Hammerlock was known for, but the damn emotion somehow always managed to rear its ugly head when he least expected it.

"Nothing outrageously filthy just yet."

"Hope it's about me in that case." The other man continued, and Alistair had to give his husband credit. He maybe a little embarrassed in terms of sexual exploration but without the visual barrier the man was knocking it out of the park. 

"Your hands, Winny do you have any idea how much I adore your meaty, warm hands?" Eyes sliding closed to further help his fantasy play out. They were so perfect wrapped around his dick, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure to curl his toes. Alistair would settle for the gentle exploration across his body, as if mapping out every groove and scar, like the man didn't already know his weak points.

"I can make a few educated guesses." The man teased softly. "Man like you likes everything big, ain't that right?"

The very fact he could hear Winny swallow his drink did strange flips to his belly, and quickly tugged his pants down just enough to expose his cock to the cool air. 

"Your cock out yet darlin'?" He wasn't about to question how Winny predicted that.

Steadying his breath, he nodded, and felt rather silly afterwards considering Winny couldn't see it "It was getting rather constricting."

"Always forget how easy it is to rile you up." Though his tone was pure amusement, Hammerlock still bit his lip to keep a snarky remark to himself. He would have his own fun at a later date.

"Grab your cock, give it a slow stroke for me." Hearing the man of his dreams form such a dirty sentence was nowhere near new. Yet those familiar, bubbly tingles of excitement tickled his spine like a young thing chasing his newly found erotic fantasies. He would never grow old of Wainwrights ability to make his toes curl.

Alistair did just that, shuffling quickly for something other than his own spit to soothe the rough ride.

Once coated, he sighed eagerly to finally give his half hard member a needy squeeze, aided by Winny's quiet hum of approval.

"There ya go." He practically purred, "Back down now." Alistair followed those sultry instructions like his life depended on it. Shifting the echo more comfortably.

That incredibly sexy voice flowed like sweet honey off his tongue, dripping thick across Alistair's entire body in a pleasant wave.

The soft, wet slicks blended into the night with the buzz of spiderants and occasional howls of a lurking predator. Interrupted periodically by two lovers whispering dirty things to each other.

"Listen to you, I ain't never heard you so desperate."

Wainwright chuckle echoed through the echo plastered to his ear and Hammerlock bucked helplessly into his own steady strokes. Deep and scratchy as if he hadn't cleared his throat all night.

"Not true." He tried to steady his voice, but Winny's heavy breathing and husky tone were doing wonderful things to his cock. Hammerlock let his head fall back, ignoring the sweat beading across his brow and tried not to stutter over his words like an idiot.

"There was that time when we went skinny dipping, I'll never forget how desperately I wanted to have my way with you right then and there. Even if you were wearing flannel."

Another quiet chuckle had Alistair's knees quivering, speeding up his strokes and pretending it was Wainwright's warm palm between his knees rather than his own. He unconsciously spread his knees just a bit wider, hoping to feel the weight of a familiar body between them.

The faint click of ice against glass rang through his ears like a bullet train. Alistair swallowed a heady moan when he squeezed near the base. Surely Wainwright's late night insomnia keeping him awake would be a shame any other occasion. But right now he would give anything to feel Winny's lips against his own.

"You're insatiable, Alistair." Wainwright moaned, practically forcing goose bumps to prickle across his husband's skin. It didn't occur to the hunter Wainwright stopped talking, and he was simply moaning into the speaker unprovoked.

Said man couldn't stop the hot, warmth busting across his cheeks and the warmth quickly throbbing in his fist. Grasping the echo with new vigor. "Oh my-" he gasped, nearly choking on the suddenness "Please, say that again."

He may have not been able to see the love in Wainwright expression but he could practically feel the intense adoration through the phone. "Alistair." Voice deep and husky, growling slowly in his ear and Alistair choked, stealing his breath away with a desperate moan.

He took incredible care letting the syllables roll off his tongue. Teasing a new variation, drawing out the letters as if licking his way across his chest. 

It was normally Hammerlock taking advantage of Winny's vulnerable kinks, but it seems the tables have turned tonight. His husband must have been just as needy as himself and somewhere deep in his boiling guts Alistair felt the warmth of affection blossom. The hunter knew he enjoyed his husband's voice in intimate moments, but he was never aware of its extent until now.

Robotic fingers clenched tight, afraid he may shatter the screen but thank goodness he managed to loosen his grip with a faint tickle of glass caught his attention. Because if he was left high and dry he'd certainly cry.

"Winny." Pleading, drawing his fingers to squeeze his shaft and milk a fat drip of precum from the tip. Wainwright's hands were divine, warm, strong hands littered with calluses that always caught greying hair in such an alluring way.

His own didn't quite fit the mold, fingers too spindly and not nearly as thick, but it still had the hunter dribbling down his knuckles and further coating his slick strokes.

Helpless to the thrums of pleasure coursing through his spine Alistair became a quiet, gasping mess. Hair sticking to his forehead as Wainwright voice alone helped push him further and further to the cusp of orgasm.

New flashes of goose bumps pricked his skin everytime Wainwright hummed, the receiver pressed tight to his ear would have been even more erotic if he could feel the tickle of his breath. But Alistair had an incredibly wild imagination, and could practically feel the tickle of facial hair against his neck.

Alistair squeezed his eyes shut tight, his movements became sloppy and desperate. Teasing his hole with the pressure of his thumb, and he kicked out his robotic leg. Managing to knock something over but at the moment he'd rather die than take his hand off his prick.

"Slower." Came a dreadfully sinful drawl, and Alistair bit his lip hard to follow the request, biting back desperate whine. "You can't be serious this late in the activities."

Winny still didn't sound convinced and contained his snicker. The tight, hoarseness in his voice proved he wasn't the only one enjoying their sexual activities and it did bring a sense of pride to his chest.

"I said slower darlin', drag it out a little more for me," He drawled. "Say my name."

"Wainwright, please." Skin on fire, and body practically boiling in response, Hammerlock moaned, hot and heavy in hopes to please the man on the other line. Although he knew what buttons to push to rev Winny's engine, he was too deep into his own world.

"My beautiful, handsome Alistair. An absolute mess, for me"

Bucking his hips Alistair was done for, trying to bury his face into the echo against his sweaty cheek as his orgasm rocked his core. Flushing his already heated skin. Chest heaving to catch his breath. He gave a soft call of his husband's name, entirely contentious and sated with a silly, goofy smile.

Hammerlock collapsed into the scratchy blankets like a deflated balloon as his hand followed through to milk him through his orgasm.

Spent and trying desperately to inflate his lungs rather than moan through the residual waves of pleasure rocked his body and curled his toes.

"Ya'll right sweetheart?"

The milky mess cooling on his belly was disgusting to say the least, but he didn't bother to move just yet. He would kill for a cigar right now.

Momentarily Alistair forgot about the echo currently lost in the mess of his pillows, searching lazily for the receiver to assure his husband he didn't not in fact explode despite how good he felt.

"Never better." Alistair's voice was airy, dizzy with a silly grin. Limbs turned to jelly and allowed the phone to lie against his chest.

"I would maime a small herd of innocent skags for a cigar."

"Check your echo net after I hang up."

Alistair was going to ask if Winny needed further assistance, afterall an idiot could tell his husband was rather affected by their little session. But it seemed his deep breaths proved he got along just fine. And Alistair felt that little blossom of affection again.

"When you're back home, I'll ruin you." Teasing quietly, and though his tone was teasing, a Jakobs always held up to their promises. And excitement tickled Hammerlock's belly. His cock giving a valent twitch.

"I'll be home first thing in the morning," he assured.

"What about your almanac you're always talking about?"

"There will be more monstrous beasts to mount, but only one Wainwright to bag."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are nice!


End file.
